Chapter Text
Most people would have been terribly confused and panicked to find themselves waking up in a hospital bed, surrounded by beeping machines, with no memory of how they had gotten there. Sips was not most people, and his primary emotion upon opening his eyes to a blank white hospital ceiling was annoyance. His head hurt, his throat was dry as fuck, and he just felt all around like a sack of drowsy, groggy crap. He had clearly been out for a while, and what the hell did that mean for Sipsco? He’d had meetings, god dammit. He couldn’t entirely remember what these meetings were meant to be about, but he knew he’d had them, and that they were probably important.
Unfortunately, the complaints Sips tried to lodge at this point fell upon deaf ears. The nurses and doctors that soon rushed into the room were too busy patting themselves on the back for a so called ‘miracle’ to listen to his concerns about work. Something about a car accident, severe blunt force trauma, and how he hadn’t been expected to regain consciousness. The only part that he actually acknowledged was the fact that he had apparently been out for two god damn weeks. Assuming that Sipsco hadn’t already fallen without him, he would have such an ungodly amount of catch up work to do. He didn’t have time for any of this bullshit about the probability of permanent brain damage or the need for physical therapy. None of these stupid god damn doctors had an ounce of understanding about the importance of running a multi-billion dollar company, and it didn’t look like he’d be getting out any time soon.
~~~~
The next few days consisted of a slew of tests, both medical and cognitive. The phrase ‘medical miracle’ was thrown around quite a bit, and Sips was quickly beginning to realize just how incredibly unlikely it was for him to be alive right now, let alone showing no signs of any problems with his mental faculties. That didn’t mean he was happy, though. He was lucky to be alive, sure, but he had still missed far too much at work while he was out. Most importantly a meeting with Strife Solutions about the possibility of a takeover. His assistant came in to visit him the day after he woke up, and while she reassured him that all of those meetings had been postponed, the asshole CEO of Strife Solutions had apparently been incredibly pissed about it, and had called several times a day insisting that waiting for a vegetable to miraculously recover was a terrible business plan.
Sips had to admit that he agreed with that. With very few exceptions, his company had reacted to his absence like a bunch of chickens with their heads cut off. Apart from his reasonably competent assistant, only his legal advisor had done anything of any use. Sips never had seen Nilesy as someone with a backbone, but he learned now that he had spent the weeks fighting with the hospital to keep him on life support (apparently a supposed lost cause like him was considered little more than a boon of organs) while trying to find and get in touch with Sips’ nonexistent family. As soon as the hospital actually allowed him in, he was already making a stink about just how important it was that Sips get his affairs in order on the chance that something like this happened again. After so much talk about miracles and being lucky to be alive, it was refreshing to hear from someone who actually seemed to care more about the future of the company than the CEO’s health. Sips made a mental note to give the weedy looking Scottish kid a raise at some point in the near future.
~~~~
Sips was absolutely fucking ecstatic when he was finally released from the hospital, even if he was under orders to stay at home for at least a week, and to avoid too much strenuous activity. He was fully capable of working from home, something that the doctors hadn’t allowed at the hospital, and he honestly couldn’t wait to get started. As such, it was a bit of an unpleasant surprise when he opened the door to his penthouse apartment and found his couch occupied by a complete stranger.
“...Okay, listen buddy, I don’t care who you are, but I have a lot on my god damn plate and I don’t have time for this. Get out of my house right now and I won’t bother calling the cops. Capiche?”
The man on his couch did not have the response he was expecting. Rather than jumping up and running, or even pulling a knife or something, he just quirked a brow, looking around in apparent confusion, before turning back to look at Sips.
“...Are you talking to me?” He sounded just as incredulous as he looked, and for a moment, Sips found himself wondering if his head injury was worse than he’d previously thought. This was his apartment, right? A glance about the room told him that yes, it absolutely fucking was, and he took a few steps toward the couch, crossing his arms over his chest and trying to look like he wasn’t absolutely weirded the hell out by this exchange already.
“Who the fuck else would I be talking to?! I’m plainly talking to the flamboyantly bearded fucker who’s made himself at home on my couch, and I’m pretty fucking sure that’s you! Why are you still here?!”
As if things weren’t already strange enough, rather than doing as he’d been told and leaving, the man just sat bolt upright, that stupid bearded face splitting into one of the biggest grins that Sips had ever seen.
“Holy shit, you are talking to me! This is incredible. You can actually see me! How the hell can you see me?” For a moment, Sips just stared at him blankly.
“Okay, I see what’s happened here. Look, I went to college. We’ve all dropped acid once or twice or a dozen times, I know how weird things can get. But this isn’t your house beardy guy, alright? This isn’t your house and you’re not invisible, so just get your drugged up butt off my sofa and am-scray. I have three weeks of work to catch up on, and if I don’t get that shit done we’re never gonna meet our dirt quotas for the quarter, because my employees are a bunch of worthless fucks and can’t get shit done without me.” He uncrossed his arms in order to motion vaguely at the door behind him before continuing, “Now, if you’ll excuse me?”
Beard-o made absolutely no motions to leave, still just grinning up at him like an idiot, and Sips could feel the frustration building up inside of him. Why him? He just wanted to get some friggin work done. Was that so much to ask for? He didn’t need some weird flannel clad hipster thinking he was his new roommate or some shit.
“Okay beardy guy, I’m fucking serious. I don’t want to kill your buzz, and I really don’t want to have to take the time to press charges, but if you’re not out of here at the count of ten, I’m actually going to call the cops. Do you actually understand that?”
This did absolutely nothing to kill beard guy’s buzz. His grin was still ear to ear, and he actually hopped up to his feet, although not, as Sips hoped, to leave. Instead he just closed the distance between them, now actually giggling like some giddy fucking school girl as he stared down at Sips.
“I’m terribly sorry.” His apology really lost a lot of its sincerity when paired with a shit eating grin, and Sips felt his own mouth forming into a scowl. “I can’t leave. I wouldn’t call the cops either. They won’t be able to see me. I still can’t bloody believe that you can, but you’re just an exception to the rule, I’d say. Which is brilliant by the way. You’d be amazed how fucking boring it gets, not being able to talk to anyone for a few decades. How the hell can you see and hear me, anyway? You certainly couldn’t before. Oh, I should introduce myself, shouldn’t I? I’ve forgotten so many social niceties. I’m Sjin. You’re… Sips, right? You don’t have people over often, so I dunno if that’s actually what people call you, but it’s what your mail says. And your bills. Um… sorry about that as well. Bit of an invasion of privacy, but I get bored, you know? I can only watch so much TV before raising your electricity bill too much, and I’d feel bad making you pay extra when I can’t even bring in rent. I suppose you’re wealthy enough that you wouldn’t really notice or care, but still… bit rude a thing to do to anyone, wouldn’t you say?”
The scowl on Sips’ face had faded about a quarter of the way into this little rant as he stared up at this gangly nutjob with a look of pure confusion instead. Beardy guy- Sjin, he’d said- Sjin was speaking at a breakneck pace, and while what he was saying was easy enough to hear, Sips couldn’t even begin to actually comprehend it. He was about ready to make good on his threat to call the cops, even though he hadn’t actually counted to ten as threatened. This guy was clearly absolutely, completely insane, and Sips wanted none of it. As he reached into his pocket for his phone, though, Sjin reached out a hand as if to rest it on his chest. Only it didn’t stop there. Sips looked down to see Sjin’s hand literally in his chest, up to his wrist, before looking up to see that the shit eating grin was finally gone, replaced with a disappointed looking frown as Sjin pulled his hand back again.
“Still incorporeal, wouldn’t you know? Suppose being able to actually touch someone would have been too much to expect.”
Sips looked back down at his chest, let out a heavy sigh, and moved to flop down onto the couch.
“So. Ghost?” He questioned in an even tone. He was just so done, he couldn’t even bring himself to be scared.
“Oh. I didn’t say, did I? Sorry, yeah. Ghost. Dead as a doornail, right here. Shuffled free of the mortal coil back in ‘73.” Sjin replied with a bit of a shrug, before dropping down onto the couch beside him. Now that Sips looked, he was really more floating just above the surface than actually sitting on it.
“And you died in this apartment, I assume.”
“Yep. In the kitchen, to be more precise.”
“Would have been nice of the realtors to tell me.”
“You’d have asked for a discount if you knew, yeah?”
“...Good point.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I wasn’t murdered or anything.”
Sips turned to look at the apparition beside him, trying to decide if it was crossing any particular lines to ask someone how they died. He didn’t have to as Sjin just gave a chuckle and tapped the side of his head.
“Aneurism, apparently. Making a sandwich one second, next thing I know I’m staring at my own body. It’s a bit of a surreal feeling.”
“Yeah, I bet.”
There was an awkward silence for a moment before Sjin broke it once again.
“...You mind if I put on the new Big Brother?”
“...Fuck it, go right ahead.”
The TV flickered on almost instantly, even though Sjin hadn’t moved or even so much as looked at the remote control. Sips was mildly impressed, until he had a bit of an uncomfortable thought.
“You’re not the reason my bathroom light flickers sometimes when I’m in the shower, are you?”
The silence Sips got in response was incredibly telling, and he decided at that moment that he really didn’t want to know.
“You know what? Nevermind.” Shaking his head slightly, he settled back on the couch to watch the show as well.
There was no way in hell he was getting any work done tonight.